


The Meeting

by Socratesandstartrek



Series: The Vulcan and the Detective [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Canon, M/M, Starfleet, canon Sherlock Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 02:26:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Socratesandstartrek/pseuds/Socratesandstartrek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock and Sherlock Holmes meet.</p><p>“Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective at your, and apparently all of helpless Starfleet’s service.” He stood an arm’s length away from the wary Vulcan, and the two shook hands. “And <em>you</em>," he paused "must be Commander Spock.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Mainly exposition. Both Spock and Sherlock are based on a combination of their newer appearances and their classic characters.
> 
> Edit: I may or may not continue this...

* * *

 

Spock opened his eyes and sat upright. He’d been planning his words, questions and actions for the meeting. With eyes closed Spock could more easily access his memories of formal human interactions, and he brushed up on a few human formalities. Though, he has heard that this is no ordinary human he eagerly awaits meeting. He glances again at the time though he’s already sure what time it is. He’s sitting in a large, sterile conference room with vaulted ceilings at Starfleet Headquarters. It’s early morning, and the sun casts shadows on the door that Spock is sitting across from; his legs crossed, fingertips together, touching his lips, foot tapping impatiently.

“From my knowledge, Sherlock Holmes is not one to arrive late, especially when there is a particularly violent case,” Spock mused.

“Humans tend not to live up to Vulcan expectations” Uhura snapped while pushing her chair in to leave. Spock stood up politely. _Was that spite in her voice?_ It probably was, he couldn’t tell. “Hope the ‘genius’ lives up to his reputation, I’ve got to go” she said, walking out the door, her hair swinging back and forth.

Spock sat down. He was very unsure about the status of his relationship with Nyota. They had decided to end their involvement for the time being due to recent stresses and traumatic events aboard the Enterprise, and she was acting as any human female would around an ex romantic partner. Romance, especially with a human, is an enigma.

He breathed deeply, adjusting his already straight uniform. Footsteps echoed down the long hallway to the room and the glossy wood door swung open. In walked a tall, thin Englishman in a dark tweed coat. (He was nearly the same height as Spock, which was impressive considering that Vulcan males are taller than human males.) He continued with a hasty stride to the table at which Spock now stood.

“I’m late, but you know as well as I the absurdity of the American public transport system. Especially in San Francisco,” he shook off his much too warm coat to reveal a sharp, slightly old-fashioned black suit. “Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective at your, and apparently all of helpless Starfleet’s service.” He stood an arm’s length away from the wary Vulcan, and the two shook hands. “And you," he paused, "must be Commander Spock.” Spock nodded.

The man had a very metallic voice, cold and matter of fact. It was, as Spock thought, _a voice enriched with Vulcan-like emotional self control and logic._ They caught each other’s eyes, and Sherlock studied Spock’s interested gaze with what seemed an almost Vulcan expression. “Fascinating,” Spock whispered. “I assume you've deduced as much as about me as I have likewise.”

“You flatter me. I spent so long studying solely humans..." he trailed off, hiding a bit of embarrassment. "I'm familiar enough with Vulcans to know that you haven’t slept in days, you’re fresh out of a very one-sided relationship, and you find myself and most humans to be very interesting.” Sherlock sat down with a satisfied smirk.

Spock sat across from him, utterly fascinated by this Vulcan-like human. “Accurate enough. Though, Vulcans have been known to go as long as two weeks without sleep so that could be just a guess.”

The man had not stopped fidgeting since he'd entered the room, he looked down from examining the ceiling and said,“You’ll never know. Anyway, I did not come all this way to this warm and humid city to chat. I understand there is a particularly pressing case for me?” Sherlock leaned forward, fingertips together against his lips, completely focused on the Vulcan.

“There have been a series of stabbings, resulting in 5 crewmen deaths aboard the starship to which I am assigned,” spoke Spock robotically. “Including the young Ensign Chekov, he remains in critical condition even with our advanced medical treatment.” “Starfleet needs me to solve something as domestic as a string of stabbings. Mr. Spock I expected more!” Sherlock laughed. “I assure you that this is no laughing matter, Mr. Holmes.”

“Sherlock.”

“Sherlock…” The Vulcan had lost his train of thought. Pushed right off the rails, leaving him frozen, staring at Sherlock Holmes. The informality so soon into their conversation was not something Spock expected of Sherlock Holmes. Something about this human was different, had caught him by surprise, his scenarios didn’t account for…something.

“If all you have for me is stabbings, then there are truly more pressing matters in England. But Mr. Spock I know Starfleet would not have called me if there were nothing more pressing, I can feel it, so do not play me for a fool.” Sherlock’s tone had turned dark again; any trace of the laugh was gone.

 _Was he feeling it too?_ Whatever it was. _Is this a ploy of some kind?_ Spock stood, facing him, hands clasped behind his back, a smile peeking through his lips.

“On a starship, Mr…Sherlock, you’ll observe strange phenomena. The simplest of problems can develop into disasters, and the most complex tasks are accomplished with relative ease,” his voice escalated “If Starfleet resorted to such an auxiliary measure as consulting a civilian albeit ‘genius’ human, then you must trust me that this case is anything but simple, and will be well worth your time. I’ll _personally_ make sure of that.” The two now stood face to face, intimately close. Spock, growing uncharacteristically frustrated clenched his jaw visibly.

“I don’t mean to illicit an emotional response, Mr. Spock. I merely wish to solve the case and prevent anymore precious Starfleet deaths.” He stepped back and looked to the window where the sun now lit up the whole room. _“I cannot read you.”_ Looking at the Vulcan’s brown eyes was a mystery. Sherlock couldn't read him anymore than he could read a mirror. All he saw was himself. He brushed it off, _"Vulcans"_ he thought. _"Maybe this case will be my chance to study one."_ “Sherlock, maybe this case would be a convenient time for a Vulcan to teach you about Vulcans. Don’t humans say ‘it takes one to know one.’”?

Sherlock laughed and grabbed his coat. “Thank you, that could be quite..." Sherlock stopped himself from saying anything too harsh to Spock, as he meant to impress "good. But first, Mr. Spock, I do believe I have a case to solve!” With that, Sherlock swiftly exited the room, with Spock following. Both had a small smile on their lips, and a single thought in their heads: _Who is this man?_


End file.
